Your actions, your motives
by Kat Tarwater
Summary: Harper's Island story in the POV of Henry Dunn. Warning: MAJOR spoilers. Contains the last part of Episode 12, and all of Episode 13.
1. Chapter 1

_Wait the fact you did it,__  
__Don't admit it,__  
__Won't make you innocent._

I watched. I waited. I couldn't do anything else until she made a move, so I had to wait. And wait I did, patiently, just like my father taught me. He taught me so much. I was glad he finally found me. Glad he finally showed me what I was. Who I am. He saved me from all the lies, all the fakes. He was one of the few I could trust.

"Trish!" She was here. Finally. My heart began to race when I saw her running down the path. She was still wearing the white wedding dress, though the hem was now stained with dark mud, and torn in places from running through the forest. Her hair flew out behind her, a dark brown banner. Her face was twisted with terror, her breath gasping out from her in a rush.

"Oh my god!" She gasped it out, though I wasn't paying attention really. She threw her arms around me as she gasped for breath, holding me close. I wrapped my arms around her too, what else could I do? She was supposed to be my wife.

"It's okay," I soothed, running a hand down her dark brown hair, trying to soothe, to calm. "It's okay."

"Oh my god!" She gasped and wept. "I thought he killed you!" She gasped again, her breath hissing on my ear, sliding across the hairs on the nape of my neck. "Wakefield escaped! Henry Wakefield escaped we have to go!" This was it. This was the moment. My heart thumped hard in my chest, but I kept an outward calm appearance.

"I know," I said, holding onto her elbows as she pulled back, looking over her shoulder, looking for Wakefield. She turned again, looked back at me, fear drawing harsh lines across her face, making her tremble in my grasp. "I know. I gave him the key." She gasped in breaths, looking unsure. Looking so confused.

"W- What?" It was the only thing she said. Probably, it was the only thing she could say. I could see her mind racing, her thoughts swirling with disbelief, with fear. Fear of me? I didn't know.

"Sully was right. Wakefield as an accomplice." I shook my head, keeping the calm look on my face, despite the hard racing of my heart. "It's just not Jimmy."

That was when it kicked in for her. I had let my hands drop from her, let her back away. "N- No," She said, a gasp. This time I could see the fear was of me. I could see the disbelief, the fear, and even anger in her dark eyes, all directed at me. "No!" She backed up again, and I reached out and grasped her elbows. She tried to push me away, weakly. She didn't have the strength, fear and exhaustion from the running had tired her far too much.

"Look, I know how hard this must be for you," I said, holding her elbows tightly. I didn't want her to get away, after all.

"No! You lied!" She almost screamed it, almost could get her voice loud enough to shout. She broke away from me, fell to her hands and knees on the ground and tried hard to crawl away.

"Listen." She wailed, it was the only way to explain the cry that came from her. It was a wail of grief and fear as she tried to crawl away from me. "Stop." She didn't stop. I hadn't actually expected her to stop trying to crawl away from me. "Stop," I said again, and this time reached down to grab her hair and yanked her back to her feet, ignoring her screams and cries. "Stop!" I said again, a little more forcefully. "Don't make this harder than it is," I told her, my mouth almost right against her ear. She cried harder, reaching back with her right hand to try to loosen my tight grip on her hair. I didn't like this, not at all. I cared for Trish. But right now, Trish was just in the way, and what I had to do was necessary to get what I wanted. "It had to happen on our wedding day." I softened my voice, almost whispering now.

"You killed them." Her voice was just as soft, a little raspy as if she had cried and screamed so much that her throat had gone raw. "You killed… My father… And J.D. Oh my… Oh my god," She gasped, trying to suck in another breath, trying to breathe through her grief and fear.

"I'm sorry," I whispered back. And I was. I really was sorry I had to do this to Trish. "I'm sorry," I said again. "It was all part of the plan. I really wanted to give you the wedding."

"You bastard," She said to me. She broke free again, I let her loose. She turned, screamed again, "You bastard!" and began to hit me. Slapping at my chest, screaming over again the same line, "You bastard" almost like a chant. I reached out, and drew her in. She let out another wordless scream as I held her close to me, and she cried harder.

Then I slid the knife hard into her side. She gasped, her body jerking in my arms, denying death even though I had plunged it into her side. She began to make small, helpless noises, like a wounded animal. I supposed that's what she was now, after all. A wounded, helpless animal that I had hurt.

"It's not fair," I whispered to her as she gasped for breath she wouldn't be able to draw soon. Gasped around the pain that surely tore through her. I jerked the knife up, hard, and she drew in one more breath. "It's not fair," I repeated softly in her ear, as if trying to give solace. As if I was trying to soothe her.

Gently, I knelt, holding my bride in my arms as she gasped her last breaths. She stared up at me, her eyes holding betrayal, pain, accusations as her arms began to fall limply from around my neck. Soon, her arms fell to the ground, and her eyes were sightless, the accusations fading with the life I had caused to drain out of her.

I pulled the knife from her side, still holding Trish's dead body up with one arm as I heard soft footsteps approaching on the rain-soft earth. After a moment, I looked up, not seeing the man in front of me for a second. When my brain cleared, I saw him. I saw the man who made me, me. He stood there, waiting, staring at me and Trish. I stared back at him for a moment, breathing in and out, trying to calm my racing heart. Finally, I spoke.

"Hey, dad."

_So justify the reason to kill._

_Reason to kill._

_I bet you will._

_Fooling no one but yourself._

_But yourself._

_I wish you well._


	2. Chapter 2

I stood on the ledge with my father, watching as Abby and Jimmy find my dead bride lying in the mud. Before we had come up here to hide, my father had seen how hard it had been on me to kill Trish. I hadn't wanted to, I really had cared for her. But she was in my way, and I had to go through with the plan. Everything hinged on the plan. Everything.

"Now is your time," Wakefield said, his voice quiet so it wouldn't echo in the still air. Abby and Jimmy were still by Trish's corpse. "Everything that we've planned. You know what you have to do." I stayed quiet, my eyes unable to leave what was going on below me. I didn't speak for several moments, staring down at Abby, my half-sister, and the asshole of a boyfriend of hers. When I finally spoke, I still didn't look from Abby.

"I have to kill Abby."

_Oh what tangled webs we weave._

_When we practice to deceive._

_I know you well._

_I know you well._

After leaving my father, after finally being able to look away from Abby, I went to find Sully. My best friend, my best man in my wedding that never happened and never would happen. Not with Trish.

"…Well listen, there is a small boat coming your way, heading East." I just caught what Sully was saying into the radio that Trish had found hours before. They had radioed for help, and the Coast Guard was supposed to be here soon. I knew my father had already killed two of them, but once they didn't return any messages from the mainland they'd send another chopper over. "Shea Allen and her daughter Madison are on it. You guys gotta pick'em up."

"Roger that, Chris. Small craft with two people heading east off of Harper's Island. Over." The _hiss, crackle_ voice of the radio spoke to Sully as I stood silently behind him, listening, frowning. So Trish's sister and niece got off the Island? Well, no matter. They didn't know I was the real killer, not Jimmy.

"Yeah, roger, whatever." Sully wiped his forehead, as if sweat was dripping into his eyes. "When the hell you guys gettin' here?"

The man on the radio spoke again as I took careful, silent steps forward. "I'll get back to you as soon as I can with an E.T.A. Over."

"Yeah, thanks." Sully whispered that last part into the receiver, almost scowling. I took another step forward, missing his next muttered word as a floorboard creaked under my foot. Sully jolted, sucking in a loud gasp of air as if he was going to yell out, but expelled his breath instead. "Henry!" He leaned forward, slapping the table the radio sat on as he stood. "Damn it! You scared the hell out of me!" Stepping forward, he reached out and I reached for him and we embraced, the way guys do with a lot of back slapping. "Man am I glad to see you!" Yeah, well, you won't be for long, I thought as I looked towards the radio.

"Did I hear right? Shea and Madison got off the island?"

"Yeah, but Wakefield escaped, I- I had to make sure they were safe."

"Wait what?" I was astonished. Sully helped Shea and Madison off the island, when before he had been so adamant about letting the girl die with my father down in the tunnels below the island. "Why didn't you go with them?"

"What, and abandon you?" Sully shook his head, looking disbelieving at my question. I was still somewhat shocked. He had stayed because of some idea that he would be abandoning me if he had left.

"I… I'm impressed." It was the only thing I could think of just then. I was rather speechless otherwise. Of course, if Sully had known who I really was, who my father was, he would have gotten off the Island in a heartbeat. "Seriously. That is quite possibly the stupidest thing you've ever done," I finally managed to say, a wry look of amusement on my face. I reached out, punching his shoulder, trying to ease some tension. No point in making him wary of me.

Before either me or Sully could say anything, the radio crackled and the voice came back. "This is San Wan sector 324. Are you there, Chris? Over."

Sully all but dove at the radio. "Yeah I'm here with Henry Dunn."

"The Coast Guard's chopper should be there in forty-five." I slapped the edge of the table, missing a couple words the man said but it was okay, I stopped listening anyway. Turning, I snatched up the gun that was leaning against the long table and examined it closely. Snapping it open, I saw the two cartridges in the gun and I frowned at them, then back up at Sully as the man continued to talk over the radio.

"Okay, forty-five, we got it." That was Chris. I had my back to him when he spoke, but I knew he looked at me. I could feel it.

"Roger that, Chris. The Chopper will set down at the Marina. Can you and Henry get there? Over."

I had turned back to look at the radio, and when Sully looked at me, a question on his face, I nodded. We could make it to the Marina by then, but we wouldn't be there. Sully didn't need to know that though. Turning away again, I fiddled with the gun I held in my hands. I didn't listen to Sully or the guy on the radio as I slid the shotgun shells out of the barrels and into my pocket. I'd get rid of them later. I didn't listen until Sully spoke directly to me.

"What about Trish?" He asked me. I turned to look at him, then glanced away, feigning worry and fear.

"She's somewhere in the woods, we got separated. You really think Danny's gone?" I tried to change the subject.

Sully shook his head, looking grim. "He was fighting Wakefield, so…" He just nodded a little, not wanting to finish the sentence. I turned away, sucking in a breath as if I was wounded or upset by the news. I already knew Danny was dead, of course, but Sully wouldn't know I knew that.

"Okay," I said, forming a plan. "Okay, first Trish… Then we find Abby and Jimmy." I held up the gun, held it out to Sully and let him take it from me. He closed his eyes, breathing hard, probably trying to work up the courage to agree.

"Okay," He said after a moment, and rushed past me out of the boathouse. I stared at the radio for a moment, before I turned and followed my best friend outside.

_I just don't get it._

_How you managed to justify who dies._

_Like judge and jury._

_You're the very one who crucifies._

"Trish!" I shouted, knowing I'd get no response. Sully walked in front of me, the gun he held at a ready position. I was sure it was cocked, but I knew it wasn't loaded.

"Trish!" Sully echoed my shout for my dead bride. We walked a few more paces, before he glanced over his shoulder briefly to ask, "Hey are you sure this is the way she ran? Just… It just doesn't feel like we're close to the Candlewick."

I chose not to answer. I was tired of playing search and rescue for a dead woman, and my heart was racing, anticipating. "You know what I don't get?" I paused for a moment, taking a few breaths, trying to calm down. "How Wakefield escaped from that jail cell. He must have had help."

"Yeah. But who?" Sully asked. He didn't look back at me as he spoke, and we kept walking, his gun in a ready position as he scanned the surrounding forest. I forced a smile off my face before it could sneak on there as I followed him.

"One of us, had to be." My lips twitched, but with his back to me Sully wouldn't have seen anyway.

"Well, Jimmy wasn't anywhere near the jail," Sully said. At least he'd stopped thinking it was Jimmy that was John Wakefield's accomplice. "He's the only one I can buy." Except it wasn't Jimmy at all. I knew it was just because he didn't know Jimmy, no one really did except me and Abby. Of course, everyone else that knew him was dead. Between me and dad, we'd killed almost everyone who had come over for the wedding. Including some locals as well.

"What about Wakefield's kid? He coulda done it."

"Then he's a ghost," Sully said, sounding strained and a bit angry. I was starting to get angry myself, angry at the ignorance. "Because there is no way in _hell_ this guy slipped past us."

"I locked Wakefield up." I wanted to bait Sully, to see what he'd do. Would he point that gun at me? Try to shoot me? I had to find out. It was exhilarating. "I could have slipped him the key."

For what seemed like hours, Sully didn't speak, even though not a minute passed by before he said anything. I knew he was turning my words over in his mind, but not actually considering them. I was his best friend, after all. Why would I turn around and kill everyone? What reason did I have? He wouldn't figure it out until his last, precious moments of life.

"Okay," He finally said, looking around, searching for Wakefield. Or maybe the ghost Sully saw as Wakefield's kid. "For arguments sake, let's say this psycho has a son. Are you saying he's a whack-job like his old man?" Anger flared in my eyes, and I cocked my head a little before straightening and speaking.

"Maybe he's just really pissed." And oh, was I ever pissed. Not so much at Sully, but at the world, for lying to me, for keeping me away from my real father and my sister. My Abby. "Guy's got a lot to be pissed about."

"No, _we _have a lot to be pissed about," Sully said, sounding angrier now.

"His mom abandoned him. Gave him up for adoption, let him be raised by some loser family who never bothered telling him he wasn't theirs."

"Life's hard. Grow a pair," was Sully's advice, which sent the flames of anger simmering inside me. My fists clenched, and I had to use will power to keep from lashing out.

"I know I'd be pissed," I finally said after a moment spent calming myself. "He's lied to his whole life. If my real dad showed up, told me the truth, set me free, hell, I'd be grateful." I took a couple deep breaths. My heart was really racing now. "I'd want to help him get revenge."

Finally, Sully stopped. He turned, staring at me, a look of astonishment and what may have been disgust on his face. "Dude! You're creeping me out!" He stared at me, shaking his head. I looked away, taking deep breaths, calming myself again.

"You're right. Sorry." He didn't say anything, just nodded his head once before he turned away and we started moving again. I let my shoulders slump a little, before I opened my mouth and yelled for Trish once more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay so here's three to make up for my long absence. I'll be finishing this story up hopefully today, as I'm close to the end of the last episode. Mind you, that I had intended this to be a simple one-shot, but as I started with Trish's death it would have been large even for a one shot. Right now, I have an upwards of nineteen pages, and I'm still writing. The way this is going, it would be enough for a short story with a few chapters in it rather than a one-shot. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think.**

* * *

_Don't get your hands dirty to kill._

_Use someone else._

"Why don't we just head to the Sheriff's Station? Maybe Trish went there looking for Danny." Sully had been trying to talk me into getting out of the woods, but I remained adamant that she was still in them. I let out a quiet sigh he wouldn't hear.

"Danny's dead."

"You don't know that." I knew he would deny it, Sully was loyal to his friends if nothing else. He didn't want to believe Danny was dead.

"So is Trish." That made Sully stop and turn around to face me, the gun still held tightly in his grasp. I waited for him to face me before I continued, "I killed her."

"Hey you shut up man!" Sully looked furious now, and a little scared. "Seriously! Just. Shut. Up."

I didn't listen, getting a sort of amusement out of this, though I was still serious. "I killed my brother, too." Sully said nothing, staring, blank-eyed. "At the Marina," I continued, head cocked a little, as if daring him to deny my claims. "In the rain. Remember? Abby almost caught me."

That was when it started to click. Sully began to back away, slow hesitant steps but still away from me. "Okay, what are you doing Henry? I don't..." I kept walking towards Sully as he backed away, tossing my shoulders almost carelessly.

"Coming clean," I said, turning my head to look around the forest for a moment before facing Sully again. I knew Wakefield was out there. "It's time to… Start a new life. You're my friend. You deserve to know beforehand." Sully just stared, he was starting to lift the shotgun towards me. "Well look, it's not like I killed them all, my dad did a lot."

"Your dad is dead, I went to his funeral," Sully said, denying the truth, not wanting to find out his best friend is not only a liar, but a killer.

"What? No, man, not that guy. Not that _liar_. My _real _dad. John Wakefield, he's the only person who's told me the truth." I waited, wondering what Sully would do. He shook his head, still denying.

"Y- You've been my best friend since _Junior High!"_

"Yeah… Yeah." I muttered it, looking down as I pulled the knife from my jeans pocket.

"Oh, come on! Henry, don't!" He believed now. I could tell he did from the fear in his eyes.

"Sully-"

"Don't! Don't make me shoot you!" He raised the gun, pointed it at my chest. I stared levelly back at him, and began to tick off those that I killed.

"I decapitated Reverend Fain. I harpooned Richard Allen."

"Stop it!"

Ignoring Sully, I went on. "I even stabbed Katherine at the Candlewick, when everyone was running around looking for Madison. Pretty exciting stuff." I smiled now, a smug smirk of pride in myself. It was exciting. It was _exhilarating_.

"Do you want me to kill you?" Sully asked, and the fear was beginning to be replaced with anger. His voice was almost growl-like in its intensity. How I was enjoying this. I stayed silent for a moment, waiting, then chuckled. I couldn't help it, it just had to come out.

"Ah, here's somethin' funny. Do you remember that money we found? It was Uncle Marty's. He wanted to invest in Malcolm's brewery, be the big hero, save the day. I wanted Malcolm to find the cash, see what would happen." I waited, watching as Sully slowly shook his head in denial.

"You son of a bitch!" Sully pulled the trigger.

_Click!_ I felt amused, tried to look condescending. Reaching into my pocket as Sully stared at the gun, I pulled out the shells and held them up for him to see.

"Sorry," I said, sarcastic.

It happened quick, Sully reaching for the barrel, twisting the gun around so he held the barrel and the handle was lifted, raised like he would use it as a club. I watched from over Sully's shoulder as my dad stepped out from behind a tree, and focused my attention on him, instead of on Sully.

"Hey, dad." That made Sully pause. He darted quick little glances out of the corner of his eye, but didn't turn around, away from me. He was too scared to take his gaze off me for more than a second. "John Wakefield's right behind ya."

"How stupid do you think I am?"

"Pretty stupid." Sully swung around, gun raised like a club as my father spoke. I ran up behind him before he could move, and thrust the knife deep into his back. He struggled hard, making sounds much like Trish had made, although he fought against me, tried to get away.

I leaned forward until my mouth was at his ear. "You never should've dogged Trish." Jerking the blade, I severed his spinal cord. After a second, he went limp in my arms and I let him go, watching as he fell, limp, to the cold ground.

I breathed out a sigh, almost of relief as I turned my head to regard my father, who was watching me closely. He had a flare gun cocked on his shoulder, and after a moment he raised it. "Time to ring the bell." He fired.

_You're the very one who crucifies._

I knew where Abby and Jimmy would go, so I stood in the path about a mile ahead, waiting. I stood, silent, my back to where they would come out of the forest. I heard them before they saw me, and it was Jimmy who called out when they finally arrived.

"Henry!"

Glancing a little over my shoulder, I swung around, aiming the gun at the two before I let out a relieved breath and lowered the weapon. "I just saw Wakefield, he can't be far."

Abby gasped in a breath, and stepped towards me. It was all I could do not to reach out, to grab her and just hold her.

"We just came from the boathouse," Abby said, motioning back the way her and the slime Jimmy had come from. She took another deep breath, trying to calm herself I guessed, or catch her wind after running for so far. "Where's Sully and the others?"

"I haven't seen them, I've been looking for Trish. Have you seen her?" I felt like I spoke too fast, but I couldn't stop myself. I was so excited just to see Abby standing here, within arms easy reach. I watched as her face fell, as she looked so sad. I hated seeing that on her face, but I couldn't do anything. I let my face fall as well, looking shocked, angry, upset.

"Trish is dead," Abby said, as kindly as she could say such a blunt statement.

I sucked in a breath, as if trying to hold back anger and grief at the news. "Where?"

_Hell has to notice._

_Your actions and motives._

Abby and Jimmy lead me to where I had left Trish's body lying on the ground, though no body lay there now. I knew my father had moved it after Abby and Jimmy had left, though I didn't let onto that. Why would I? I needed to trap them.

"She was… Right here," Jimmy said, sounding confused. As I walked forward to look around, his voice became a little stained. "She was right here, right?"

I turned, looking up the hill next to us, and down the hill on the other side of the small path. "Maybe she's still alive." I let hope leak into my voice, desperation at finding my bride, my Trish. I knew she wasn't alive. "Wounded. We have to find her! _Trish!" _I screamed her name so that it echoed through the forest.

"Henry, we checked," Jimmy said, and I turned back to him, anger and irritation at him leaking through my mask of what should have been fear and grief. "She was definitely gone." I stepped forward, leading with the anger.

"Don't you tell me she's gone! _Don't you tell me she's gone Jimmy!" _ Abby stepped in between us then, holding her hands out to stop us from breaking into a fight.

"Hey! Henry! It's true," She said, as I glared over her shoulder at Jimmy. I had only managed to shove him a couple steps back with a hand before Abby had intervened. "You might not want to hear it, but Jimmy's telling the truth." I let out a breath, turned away from them for a moment before looking back as I started to walk away.

"I have to find her," I said, before I turned and ran.

"Henry!" Abby called after me, and followed quickly on my heels.

_Know all your lies are measured in hell._

_I wish you well._

I was a good fifty yards ahead of Abby and Jimmy when I reached the church. I slowed a little, glancing back over my shoulder into the woods, and made sure they saw me enter the church in my search for Trish. As I walked in, I walked slowly up to the alter, where the body of Trish lay, obviously dead. Blood soaked the side of her wedding dress, though that side wasn't readily visible to me until I was standing over her. Hand prints, red with blood were on the side of her dress that faced me, and I looked down at her.

I realized then, just for a moment or two, I actually did feel grief for my dead bride, though we were never to be married in the first place. I had loved her, or at least cared for her, I realized. I had known that killing her would be hard, but not so much as to feel this kind of grief even though the plan called for her death.

I let out my breath in a sort of sigh, though through it I could hear my grief that I strangely felt for Trish. Abby must have heard it too, for she came up to me and put her hand gently on my shoulder before squeezing to show her comfort and support. "I'm so sorry," She whispered to me, and looked down at Trish's body with me. For a moment, we were united as one, and I felt only joy that she would care so much as to stand with me despite everything. Not that she knew, of course. Not yet.

Then that was when my father came in, and attacked Jimmy. I heard him, his blade as it sliced through the air. I turned, putting my hand on Abby's arm and ushering her backwards as Wakefield assaulted Jimmy. She wanted to help Jimmy, of course, but I couldn't let her.

Church pews broke under my fathers and Jimmy's weight as they landed heavily on them, and the noises were loud in the quiet church. Abby tried to run to Jimmy's aid, but I held her back. "Abby! Run!" Jimmy yelled as he struggled against his inevitable death. I raised the gun I held and started to aim, but Abby stopped.

"Henry wait!" She demanded of me. Jimmy got away for a moment, ducking and dodging behind pews as my father picked up the weapon he carried and began to swing it's sharp blade at Jimmy. "Henry! Now!" Abby cried, trying to get me to fire. She wanted me to shoot Wakefield, but I shook my head.

"I don't have a shot!"

Just then, I tilted my head up towards the ceiling. I could hear a motor outside, helicopter blades slicing through the air as they zoomed over the church. "Coast guard!" Abby breathed, eyes trained on the ceiling as mine were. "Has to be!"

"Abby! Signal for help! Go!" That was Jimmy, calling back to Abby even as he crawl away from Wakefield in an effort to save his life.

Abby hesitated, but only for a second before she turned and fled. My father, who had a tenuous hold on Jimmy, turned to me as Abby left the church. "Henry! She's getting away!" He said, angry. Jimmy froze, and turned to look back at me even as anger filled my face. What if Abby had heard him yell that? The fool.

Before I could react though, Jimmy found a flare on the ground and, setting it off, thrust the lit end into Wakefield's stomach, burning him and getting Wakefield away from him long enough for Jimmy to throw the flare to the side of the church. The carpet and curtains caught instantly, flaring into flaming life. I looked at my father, who was scowling, obviously hurt though he hid it through anger. "Now finish it."

I lifted the gun, and shot at Jimmy.

_Bear the cross, wear the crown, it's just some evil you can't bleed out._

It didn't take long to find Abby after I fled the church. She hadn't gotten very far away in the woods just beyond the church. "Abby!" I yelled as I started to catch up to her. She turned at my voice, fear and panic in her eyes and waited for me to reach her.

"Where's Jimmy?" Her voice was ragged from panting, having run so hard to find an open spot for the flare to reach the sky and not get caught in the trees.

I shook my head, trying to look upset. "Wakefield got him," I said, panting heavily. Abby stood there, staring at me, disbelieving. I knew it would be hard for her at first, but she would quickly warm up to the idea. "I'm so sorry." I turned from her as she stood, shell-shocked. I looked around, up at the sky. "You know where we're supposed to meet them?"

"The Marina," She finally managed to say, not quite looking at me as I turned back to study her pale face. Behind my back, I pulled out my knife and slowly opened the blade as I could see Abby piecing everything together. "T- The guy on the radio said… He talked with you and Sully." She paused as another thought entered her mind. "You said you hadn't seen Sully…" I shook my head, trying to get her to believe me for just a little longer.

"I haven't." She sucked in a breath. I wondered if she was trying to believe me, but her face had gone blank. Behind her, my father stood, silent and waiting. "Abby…"

"What's wrong?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. I lifted the knife, pointing it towards her.

"It's okay," I said, soothing as I walked towards her. She didn't look at me. She stared at the knife, fear all but pulsing from her. I could almost feel it, as if it were a tangible thing I could reach out and touch. "It's over."

"Henry!"

I reached out, grabbing her shoulder. Everything happened so fast, Abby, her face pale, my father, his face almost triumphant.

Then I shoved Abby aside, and plunged the blade deep into Wakefield's chest. I held him, my arm around his shoulders to keep him in place as I wrenched the blade, twisting it before I yanked it out.

John Wakefield sank to his knees, staring at the blade. I knew his vision was fading, and he tried to say my name, though it was barely audible. His mouth moved, and the look of utter betrayal that crossed his face should have made me weep, but it didn't affect me at all. "W- Wh…" He tried to say why. I could see his mouth forming the word, but his breath gushed out, unable to finish it as he started to fall, and the collapsed onto his back.

I looked away from my father, and looked at Abby. "Abby…"

"The way he looked at you…"

"Abby…"

"It's you…"

"He's dead." I walked towards her even as she backed away from me. The look of fear she had held was back again, and it was fear of me. I hated seeing that look on her face. "I finished it."

"N- No not you Henry!" She gasped out as she backed away from me, even as I stalked towards her. "Oh god!" She turned and ran.

"No!" I yelled as I went after her. I reached out, and a second later wrapped my hand around her neck and flung her backwards. Her head struck the ground hard with a dull sound, and soon her eyes fluttered closed. I stared down at her, breathing hard. I hadn't wanted to hurt her. I hadn't wanted to do anything to Abby. I loved her too much. But sometimes, you had to hurt the things you loved in order to get them to stay.

_Fate finds you wicked._


	4. Epilogue

**Okay so for those of you who have been reading this story, I'd like to say sorry it took so long to get all of this out. But here it is, the final chapter of Henry Dunn's pov of what happened in Harper's Island.**

* * *

_Turns you victim for everything you have done._

_So justify the reason to kill._

_Reason to kill._

_I bet you will._

It seemed like years before Abby finally awoke. I had been waiting downstairs in one of the many empty houses, after cleaning it of anything that could be used as a weapon. I didn't want Abby to get any ideas. She would understand in due time, of course. It would just take her awhile to get used to the idea that I had done all this for her. She wouldn't understand, not at first. But I knew Abby. She would understand sooner or later.

But when Abby did finally come down, I felt only relief that she was alright, and love for her. And nerves. I was so nervous to see her there. "Hey there," I said, and she started like a startled deer. Her eyes were huge and frightened, and her face paled when she looked at me. I let out a light laugh. "I didn't think I'd be this nervous," I admitted as I rubbed my damp palms on my jeans. "Y- You want something to eat?" I questioned as I walked towards her, and then past her as she stepped aside, not meeting my gaze. She had nearly flinched away from me. She would understand soon.

"No."

I paused, and turned to look back at her. "It's okay," I said, sympathy in my voice. "I'll explain everything." She looked around, her eyes too dark and her face too pale.

"What'd you do?" She looked back at me, and she looked so tired, so weary.

"I chose you. Over him." I smiled, and felt the nerves jittering in my stomach as I waited for her. Waited for her to accept me, so we could get on with the rest of our lives.

"Wakefield's your father?" I nodded, not saying anything as I kept the smile in place. I knew the love I felt for her leaked through, and the nerves.

"No more secrets, Abby," I said as I stepped closer, my arms outstretched. I didn't know if I planned to hug her or not, but before I could make up my mind Abby stepped away and held up an accusing finger.

"You stay away from me!" She turned, looking towards the door. She glanced over her shoulder at me before she ran to the door and jiggled the knob. The door was locked, of course. I couldn't let her run away, could I?

"Abby, there's no where to go!" Concerned, I watched as she ignored me and moved to another door and wiggled the knob, though that one was locked too. I watched her as she opened drawers in the kitchen, searching for weapons or anything that she could use as one. I had cleaned everything out earlier.

"I- I'm not going to hurt you," I said, feeling hurt. I had done all of this for her, and she thought I was going to hurt her?

Abby didn't seem to hear me, as she picked up a glass jar and threw it at me. I flinched away from it, not wanting to let it hit me. Instead, it shattered on a chair leg, causing a distraction long enough for her to run out of the room. I sighed, then smiled a little as I followed after her.

"Abby?" I said through the door she had slammed shut when I had found where she went. She hadn't gone far. "I'm sorry it's worked out like this, but it's going to be okay." I tried to be soothing and understanding, letting it resonate in my voice. I wanted her to relax so she could think about everything I've done, everything I've done for _her_. "It's still me!" I smiled a little. I hadn't changed since we were kids. She would understand that soon too. "I can wait. We have all the time in the world! Just like you wanted. Remember? When we were kids? How I used to hate how I had to leave!"

I let that sink in, let Abby remember that one summer that had changed everything for us. "You remember what you said to me?"

"_I wish you could live here with me forever, just the two of us." _The voice seemed to come back to me then, Abby's voice when we were just children. It whispered around my head, and made me grin, joy leaping as the nerves I had felt vanished again.

"Now we can! You, and me. Alone. Forever. Abby?" I reached out, tentatively touched the door that separated us. I wanted so badly to hold her, to help her understand that everything that had happened was for the better. Was for us. Instead, I let my hand slide off the door and I held back a crushing sense of sadness that she wouldn't answer me. "Just come downstairs when you're ready." I paused, waiting, before I turned and walked back downstairs.

_Fooling no one but yourself._

I had some notion about making a lunch a little bit later, and taking a sandwich or something up to Abby to have her eat when I heard a noise. I paused and tilted my head up, and heard glass shattering above me. "Abby?" Hearing no reply, I shifted onto the balls of my feet. "I'm coming up!"

Just as I reached the stairs though, I froze. A jagged piece of glass was held only inches from my face, and I stared at it for a moment before looking at her hand, watching blood trickle down from a slice caused by the glass. I looked up at Abby, sadness sighing through me.

"We were kids!" She accused. Her voice was strong, though not a little unsteady. "Don't blame me for what you've done!" I backed down the stairs, and she followed, leading with that piece of jagged glass. She didn't seem to notice the pain her hand must have been in with that cut on her palm. "You're sick. You need help! You were gonna marry Trish…"

Finally off the stairs, I let out a sigh. "The wedding was the only way I could think of to get you back to the island." Slowly I walked backwards through the hallway, letting Abby follow with the glass.

"Everyone's dead…"

"They had to go." In the kitchen now, I kept backing up. I didn't want Abby to panic and hurt herself worse, and I didn't want to hurt her either. "They were in our way!" I spread my hands out, beseeching.

"Wakefield killed my mom and dad…" Abby said, and softer, continued, "she was your mom too…"

Anger filled me now, and I tilted my head forward a little as the weight of the anger at Abby's mother filled me. "She threw me away."

Tears filled Abby's eyes, and I felt remorse then. I didn't want her to cry, I never wanted Abby to cry. "You're my brother…" Her voice was weak as she forced herself to speak around her tears.

"I can do the math." My voice was just as soft as Abby's. "Abby, it doesn't matter. No one else knows! Hell, the Dunn's never told me, you know how that felt?"

"I don't care how that felt!" Her voice was stronger now, and angry.

"Alright. Alright you need to know this now. I'm going to tell you everything! How I learned the truth. I met Wakefield the day of the rampage." The flashbacks were strong and vivid. I could almost see everything that had happened that day again in my mind. "I didn't know he was my father then!" I looked at Abby, seeing both her, standing with me in our new house, and my father and me, standing in the forest that day of the rampage.

"But when I looked at him, there was a connection!"

"Connection? With the man who hung my mother from a tree?"

I smiled, let a laugh into my voice as I said, "Kinda weird, huh? I was inspired by the guy everyone else feared, and hated!"

Abby backed away from me then, holding the jagged glass out like a deadly weapon. "Abby, you don't need that!" I wanted her to get rid of it before she left a bad scar on her hand.

"You knew Wakefield was alive all these years?" Tears slipped down her cheeks, and I wanted to go to her, but I couldn't risk getting stabbed by that glass. "That my dad hadn't killed him?"

"Yeah." I nodded as if that'd make it alright.

"How?" Abby demanded.

"About a year after the rampage. He tracked me down." The memory of that night was strong too. The night that I had met my real father. The night that my life had started to make sense. "He told me I that was his son, and he had been searching his whole life for me. Do you know how powerful that is? That kind of love?" I asked Abby. I needed to make her understand! I smiled as relief seemed to wash through me.

"This feels great, we should have had this talk a long time ago."

"N- No… The Henry I know isn't a killer." Abby was still trying to deny the truth. I knew she'd see reason soon, but she needed to hear the whole story first. That was why she couldn't understand, of course. Because she didn't know the whole story yet! Why hadn't I told her before? She would have started to understand already.

"I've always had certain impulses. I just didn't understand them until I met my dad." The flashbacks again, this time the night of my first kill. It was amazing, thrilling, that how even now I could revel in the feeling I had felt then, that rush of adrenaline, that sense of power. "The Sherriff was right, about Wakefield being at those murder scenes in Seattle and Tacoma. He just wasn't the one doing the killing." There it was again, that sense of power, even now, years later. That rush. That power. How it filled me, and how I wanted, needed, to share that with Abby.

"It's harder than you think. You couldn't do it. You couldn't shoot Wakefield. It takes practice."

Abby shook her head. She still didn't want to believe, and now she looked horrified by my story. But why? Why didn't she understand already? "I've known you my whole life…"

"Abby, it's all over! It's done, I'm done killing! I am not my dad," I said. My voice was forceful, persuasive. "He thought you had to destroy the one you loved to be complete."

"He wanted you to kill me?" Abby looked almost angry now as I spoke, but the glass she held in her hand bobbed and shook as if she was hesitating.

"I could never do that!" I smiled, holding my arms out at my sides. That was true. I could never hurt her. I loved Abby. "I could _never_ do that," I said again, forcefully. "That's how I'm different from him! He chose death. I choose life with you. I love you." I smiled, and took a small step towards her.

"No!" She screamed, and threw the shard of glass down. She looked so angry, so furious with what I had told her. She spun away, picking up something large and heavy before smashing it into the window of the door. I started after her, but she had already run out of the door by the time I had reached it. I had to catch her. I had to show her I'd never hurt her, I had to show her how much I loved her.

"Abby!" I yelled after her as she ran up and down the hill on the side of the house. I followed her down to the old shed, and found her there, staring at Jimmy. He wasn't dead. I had left him there tied to a support beam so I could use him later.

I walked in, fury riding high as I reached out and grabbed Abby by the throat and propelled her back out the door. I slammed the door shut behind me as Abby screamed Jimmy's name.

_Don't get your hands dirty to kill._

"You weren't supposed to find him," I said as I shoved Abby back through the broken door and into the house.

"Let him go!"

"Look my dad wanted to kill him a long time ago, but I wouldn't let him!"

"You _used _Jimmy!" I glared at Abby before turning away, wanting to hit something. "Every time he showed up it made him look more guilty! You and Sully were ready to blow his head off!"

I spun around, fury almost clogging my throat. "You should be _thanking me!" _ I snapped.

"Stop _lying_ Henry! Why is he alive?" Abby's cry made my fury pause, and recede again. I relaxed some, not quite so angry now.

"He's not. None of us are. As far as the world's concerned, we all burned to death in a fire." Abby looked so shocked when I told her that.

"What'd you do?" Her voice was a whisper.

"Provided closure. The police will find blood samples to support our deaths, and no one will come looking for us!" Abby turned from me, grabbing at her hair, looking more than just shocked now. "They'll find my father's body in the fire as well and the legend of John Wakefield will grow-"

"Why is Jimmy alive?" Abby demanded, interrupting me in my explanation. She pleaded with her eyes for me to tell her, and though I wanted to, I couldn't deny her after her next comment. "No more secrets. Remember?" I smiled, nodding.

"Shea and Madison got off the island. It wasn't part of the plan. They know there's somebody who let Wakefield out of his jail cell."

Abby stared for a long moment before it clicked in her mind. "You're setting Jimmy up as Wakefield's accomplice?" Her voice suggested that she was questioning me, but I could see it in her eyes. She already knew my plan. Would she finally be proud? Finally see reason?

"I'm doing it for you." I threw my hands up, then let them fall again. I had to explain this to her so she _could_ see. So she _would _be proud. "For us! So that no one will come looking for us, so that we can live our lives together!" I stepped towards her, wanting to reach out to her. "Jimmy will sign a confession-"

"No he'll never do it!" Abby tried to deny it.

"Yes. He will!"

"No!"

"Yes he will!" I repeated. "Now that he's seen you." Abby stared at me. I couldn't tell if she understood this time, if she got what I meant. "He'll do it for you," I said, staring into her eyes. I almost reached out, wanted to in my heart to reach out to her and grab her by the shoulders, shake her if I needed to, to get that reason into her head. To see the light in her eyes she used to hold when she looked at me when we were children. I wanted so much to see that in her eyes again. That Abby that I had fallen in love with.

"I don't want…" She paused, then changed her mind about what she would say. "Will you kill him?" It was said so fast that the words nearly ran together, hard to understand. I sighed, my patience straining.

"Look, Abby, I've had to make a lot of hard choices for us to be here! He's the last one. I swear." I stared at her, waited to see what she'd say.

Instead, she tried to run again. I reached out, wrapping an arm around her neck and twisting my other hand in her long hair. "Oh god no!" She cried, trying weakly to get away from me. Her voice was muffled by tears, by fear. Fear of me? My heart sank as I dragged her up the stairs and into the bedroom, shoving her in when we crossed the doorway.

"I know this is hard for you! But we both have to make sacrifices." She'd understand soon, I thought as I turned from where I stood by the bedroom door. Opening it, I looked back at her. "It's gonna be fine," I said, holding up a hand as if to show her I meant it, before I closed, and locked, the door.

_Oh what tangled webs we weave._

_When we practice to deceive._

A while later, after I had figured Abby had calmed down enough, and after I had talked to Jimmy, I went to the room I had left her in. I knocked on the door before I entered, not waiting for her to respond. Until she accepts everything I'm trying to give her, I know I can't expect any response from her. Not even simple gestures of affection she used to give me.

I saw her, laying there on the bed. I could tell she wasn't sleeping, her body was too tense for it. Gently, I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if I should reach out to her. Unable to help it, I did anyway, despite whatever misgivings I may have had. Despite my fear that she would shove me away. I hesitated once, but then rested my hand on the top of her head, and stroked her soft hair.

"I just want things to be the way they were." Abby's voice startled me, but I didn't stop stroking her hair. "Before all of this."

I looked down at her, feeling compassion and love for her as she lay, curled away from me on the bed, but not flinching when I ran a hand through her hair. Had I made progress with her? The thought of that, and the memory of my talk with Jimmy made me smile. "Jimmy agreed to sign a full confession. It's all working out, just like I promised. But he won't sign it unless I let him say goodbye to you." My smile faltered then. I hadn't liked that part of the plan, but I didn't really have a choice if I wanted Abby and me to be safe here.

Abby shook her head. "I can't," She said, and I could hear the tears in her voice. The regret. I knew she didn't want him to die, but she would understand soon.

"You have to." I waited, but she didn't respond, didn't even move. "I'll wait for you downstairs," I said, and stood and left the room.

_So justify the reason to kill._

_Reason to kill._

_I bet you will._

It didn't take Abby long. I hadn't thought it would. When she had come downstairs, I had led her out and back to the old shed where Jimmy had been tied to the support beam just inside. She was hesitant, shaky even as she walked in, and almost froze in the doorway when she saw Jimmy again, tied to that beam. When she finely walked in the rest of the way, I closed the door behind her and put a hand gently on the small of her back, feeling a small sense of triumph when she didn't flinch away from my touch.

"Say goodbye," I urged gently. I didn't want her near him, but I didn't have a choice if I wanted my life with Abby here on the island. Still, she hesitated, and I moved my hand to her arm. "Abby." Urging her to step forward, I tried to gently nudge her towards him. Finally, when she did go to where he stood tied to the support beam, her movements were slow as though she had to think hard about every step she took. Neither one of them seemed to even notice me, though I could hear them whispering, but not what about. I watched as Abby lifted her hands and took the gag off of Jimmy's mouth. In a move quicker than she had made before, she reached out and kissed him. Passion seemed to light a fire in her I hadn't known was there, while rage built a fire inside me.

When they didn't stop kissing, I stepped forward, anger making me almost twitchy. "That's enough," I snapped as I grabbed Abby by the hair and yanked her backwards.

Looking at me with her head tilted back, she glared almost defiantly at me. "I love him!" She declared, and I lost it. I reached up, slapping her hard across the face and sending her sprawling to the ground, out of my grasp. When I realized what happened a second later, I pressed the heels of my palms to my temples and turned in a circle.

"Ah I shouldn't have done that… Um… Come on let's go." I reached down for Abby just as Jimmy yelled at me.

"Get the hell away from her!" I stood up, planned on moving to him to strike him, anger filling my body, my face, when Abby stabbed my foot with an awl, screaming as she did it. I screamed with the pain as it sent knives up my nerves and into my brain, before it rebounded back to my foot as it screamed wildly. Bending down, I ripped it out of my foot just in time to see Abby fleeing out of the shed and into the forest.

"_Abby!"_ As I passed by the tool shelf next to the door, I paused for a moment, just long enough to pick up a boarding knife before I chased after Abby. I didn't think about why I had grabbed the knife, it didn't seem to matter. The only thing that did was Abby. I had to find Abby!

Running after her was hard. She took indirect routes, jumping over and into small ravines and down cliff edges. "Stop! Would you- Ah!" I couldn't yell after her and chase her. It was too hard, and too distracting. When we reached a relatively straight path, I yelled out to her again. "If anyone else is on the island they're miles away!" I told her as I chased after her.

Abby found the steps that lead up to one of the cliffs, and I yelled after her, afraid she would fall off. "Abby! Abby wait!" She ignored me, and kept running. Ahead, I saw her stumble to a stop and teeter backwards until she was away from the edge of a cliff. "Abby!" She spun at her name, staring, eyes wild with fear and fury. "Stop!" We both froze, watching each other as we breathed heavily from the long and wild run. "I didn't want it to be like this!"

"I know what you did." She paused for more breath, sucking it into her lungs in great heaves. "You told Jimmy you'd kill me if he didn't sign the confession." I felt the shock as it drained my anger away. The hurt as it jabbed at my heart.

"Abby I could never hurt you," I said, showing the hurt, showing the shock that she would ever think that. I loved her. Couldn't she see that? "Everything I've done… I did for us! I'd die without you!"

She didn't seem to believe me, looking down at the boarding knife in my hands. "Is that why you have that boarding knife?" She demanded. I looked down at it, studying it as though I hadn't seen it before. Looking back at her, I lifted the boarding knife, and threw it off the edge of the cliff onto the rocky shore below. Abby turned her head, watching it fall down onto the rocks.

"There. Now do you believe me?" She had to believe me! Why couldn't she just believe me? "You and this island are my home! You're the only thing that makes sense to me."

"None of this makes sense! You destroyed everything I ever loved!" I shook my head, gritting my teeth as I stared at her, that familiar sense of fury coming back again.

"No but you _have me!"_

"_I don't want you!" _That admission from Abby, my Abby, made me freeze. It felt as if ice had chilled in my veins, and the only thing I could see was the stark truth on Abby's face. She didn't want me. Had she ever? Had she ever loved me?

I felt something hit me from behind, like a train running into me and sending me over the cliff. It was Jimmy, tackling me and sending us both tumbling down over rocks and near the edge of the water. I was dazed, hitting my head hard on one of the rocks, that it took me a few minutes to even see, let alone stand. But when I did, I saw Abby kneeling over Jimmy. The anger swept me again, and I stalked over, fury twisting in me, building, just waiting to erupt.

Before I could do anything though, Abby twisted. Metal glinted in her hands, and then there was a sick, slick noise that accompanied an odd pressure in my chest. My eyes went wide, as Abby's did, and I stared down at the boarding knife that had sliced through me so easily.

There should be pain, right? So why couldn't I feel it? When I looked up at Abby, into her too dark eyes, and too pale face, I knew. Abby… Oh Abby… Love for her bloomed in me again, and even, somewhere deep down, pride. Pride that she had killed, had been able to. I knew Abby could do it, I knew she could. "Abby?" I asked weakly as she stared at me. How I wanted to reach out to her, to hold her and tell her everything would be alright, even as I sank to my knees. She fell with me, her hands unable to let go of the boarding knife.

My breath rattled in my lungs. I felt that love for her again when she met my eyes, and it swelled. It was fighting back the pain for me, and let me speak what I had so longed to speak to her before, just before the darkness enveloped my sight. I wanted the last thing I saw to be Abby, and I wanted her to know how I felt just before I died.

"I love you." I stared at her, wanting her to say it too, but knowing she wouldn't. Slowly, it felt as if the ground was coming up to meet me, and I let it, and closed my eyes, my last sight was that of Abby's beautiful face.

___Fate finds you wicked._  
_Turns you victim for everything you have done._  
_  
_


End file.
